A Fundraiser for Hellsing
by Shya-san
Summary: Wasn't sure bt PG or PG-13...Well...hm...Integra gets drunk and Hellsing needs money...


Whoo...hey there! I totally forgot to do a disclaimer...*begs to Fanfiction.net gods* Please don't punish me!!!  
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters or settings, or the story that it's all based on, in fact, are mine. They all reside in Kouta Hirano's brain. It's all from the DVD and manga series Hellsing, which, I might add, is most excellent. Be sure to check it out.  
  
This was written by me and my friend PG...who also has stuff on this site under the name Paranoia Girl. It's great fun. Do look her up.  
  
And now...On to the show!!!  
  
A Fundraiser For Hellsing  
  
Integral Wingates Hellsing sat in her office facing a blank wall. It was a rare occasion when she had enough time to let her mind wander, and tonight it was wandering down a rather crooked path.  
  
She poured herself another glass of vodka, and sighed. I wonder where Arucard is, thought Integra. I wonder if he's changing, she thought as she sipped her vodka. Does he ever actually change his clothes? I've never seen him change his clothes...not the normal way. She smiled perversely. I wonder, she thought as she downed another glass of vodka, if he wears boxers of briefs...or, she smiled wider, a thong.  
  
Integra's eyes glazed over as she grabbed the bottle of vodka and stood from her chair. How can I get Arucard in a thong, she wondered as she staggered towards the door. Then it came to her. Integra hurried down the hall, eager to tell Walter her brilliant idea.  
  
Coincidentally, Walter had just turned the corner and ran to stop Integra from running into a wall. "Sir Integra? Are you all right?"  
  
"Huh? Yes! Yes, Walter! I'm fine! In fact, I have a brilliant idea! What are you doing here?" Her words were slurred.  
  
Walter raised his eyebrows and took the bottle of vodka from her hand. "Well, Sir Integra, I've just spoken to our treasurer, and I'm afraid that we will have to hold a fundraiser to rebuild London after the Incognito incident." he glanced at her again. "Are you sure that you're all right?"  
  
"Yes! Yes! I'm fine! I have an idea for a fundraiser, Walter," she said.  
  
"Oh, and what is it?"  
  
Integra gave an evil sounding laugh and leaned against the wall. "First Annual Hellsing Tighty Whitey Contest," said the knight with a grin. She slumped to the floor.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
In the comfort of his dungeon room, Arucard lay on his bed with his hands behind his head. His red eyes shifted under his yellow sunglasses as he thought to himself. A too-familiar, psychotic smile spread across his face, his fangs glimmered in the candlelight. I wonder where Integra is right now, he thought to himself.  
  
He chuckled. Ha! Knowing my master, she's probably working, or maybe talking to Walter. He smiled wider as he thought: Or maybe she's getting undressed. Arucard had often wondered what his master looked like nekkid. Integra's manly, boxy suits hid her womanly form from onlookers. The vampire pondered some more.  
  
I wonder how I could get her to show off her curves. He thought hard about this, bringing himself to sit up and rest his chin on his hand in a human- like fashion. Arucard tried to picture a situation where Integra would have to abandon her suit. He searched his vast memory for just such a situation. Ironically, he remembered a show that he had been watching on TV just the previous night. It had been a show on American fraternities and sororities. He distinctly recalled the portion of the show dedicated to sorority wet tee-shirt contests.  
  
Arucard smiled psychotically again. Yes, the idea was perfect, but how would he arrange a Hellsing wet tee-shirt contest? There were very few women working for Hellsing, and the vampire knew that Seras and her inflatable bra could defeat all the women among them, but, still, the thought of Integra in a drenched, white baby tee was a pleasing thought to him. Now, how to bring it up?  
  
There was a knock at his door.  
  
"Lord Arucard," called Walter's voice from outside. "I have the gun that you wanted, and Sir Integra wishes to speak with you." Arucard grinned.  
  
"No! I will not! I flat out refuse!" This was said by Arucard, facing a still very drunk Integra, who was sitting in an armchair. Integra grinned.  
  
"But Arucard, we could have so much--I mean it would be so much fun."  
  
The vampire growled. He was pacing as Integra spoke, but now he rounded on her. "How can you ask this of me, Master? Why should I participate in such a degrading, human...," he searched for the word, "ritual."  
  
Integra chuckled, a bit of her old wit returning to her. "But Arucard, haven't you always referred to complaining as a degrading, human ritual?" She hiccuped as she laughed.  
  
Arucard removed his sunglasses and glared at Integra with his intense red eyes. "No."  
  
"Yes." She hiccuped again. The vampire glared maliciously. He wanted to yell at her again, but a sudden idea struck him. He narrowed his eyes and twiddled his fingers craftily. "All right," said Arucard silkily. "I'll agree to participate in your little charade, on one condition."  
  
Integra hiccuped again. She would do anything to see Arucard in a thong. "Done," she said at once. "Excellent," chuckled Arucard. He laughed psychotically. (MWAHAHAHA)  
  
Two weeks later...  
  
Walter walked up on the stage that was sitting under a large white tent in the middle of the Hellsing gardens. "Five minutes until the start of the first annual Hellsing Institution Tighty-whitey and Wet Tee-shirt Contest, ladies and gentleman. And please remember that all proceeds go to Hellsing's efforts to rebuild London. Please, no flash photography. Please take your seats."  
  
Hundreds of people filed into the tent. Suddenly, eleven suited men were seen coming down the isle, trying to find their seats. They were singing "We are the knights of the round table.*" One by one, they made their way to the front row, the man clapping to coconuts sitting down last.  
  
Integra watched from backstage s her fellow knights filed into their seats. She cursed Arucard. "Great! They just had to come! Oh, they better make BIG donations!" She pulled uncomfortably on her tight cut off jeans and her white baby tee. "Ugh! What size is this damned shirt?!" She reached around for the tag. "An extra small?!! But I wear a medium! Oh, Arucard! You better be just as humiliatingly dressed as I am."  
  
In the men's dressing room, Arucard walked nervously over to the full- length mirror that hung on the one wall. His eyes shifted under his yellow sunglasses as he looked around to make sure that he was alone. Cautiously, he opened the red bathrobe he was wearing and looked at the mirror. This, of course, was completely pointless, because Arucard, being a vampire, had no reflection.  
  
Arucard growled at his own stupidity and smacked himself upside the head. Having ditched his characteristic red hat, the blow was more than Arucard had meant it to be. The vampire stumbled back into a corner, whimpering and massaging his head where he had hit it.  
  
Despite the head injury, Arucard's hypersensitive ears picked up the sound of someone in the dressing room. Quickly, he pulled the robe around himself again as Walter walked around the corner wearing a gray bathrobe.  
  
Walter spotted Arucard straightening up in the corner. "Lord Arucard, good morning. You seem a bit disheveled, if you don't mind me saying so. Are you all right?"  
  
The vampire chuckled. "Disheveled? Yes, well, how else would I be after being forced to wear this...item?" He glanced down at his closed robe.  
  
Walter smiled, knowing exactly what "item" Arucard referred to. "Yes, they are a bit...constricting." Arucard nodded in agreement, but stopped shortly, a thought coming to him. "Wait, Walter, you're not in the contest, are you?"  
  
"Why of course. Sir Integra would hardly let me get out of this one." Nonchalantly, Walter dropped his robe.  
  
Arucard squealed in horror.  
  
The audience rustled and bustled in their seats, eager for the show to start. After about twenty minutes of waiting, the crowd burst into an enthusiastic chant of: "SKIMPY! SKIMPY!"  
  
"The first annual Hellsing Wet Tee-shirt and Tighty Whitey contest will now commence," said a voice from the speakers.  
  
The crowd burst into cheers and settled in their seats to watch the fun. Loud techno music pounded from the speakers at either side of the stage, and an impressive display of lights flashed around the door into the dressing room.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome this year's Miss Busty Hellsing contestants!" There came a loud roar of applause and cheering as the contestants walked out on stage. Most of the contestants were secretaries and assorted housekeeping personnel, who all surprisingly fine figures. But the most remarkable of all was the second to last contestant who stood in the back of the line of posing women in tight shirts, short shorts and high heels.  
  
Seras Victoria stood at the back, her bust well beyond a double D cup. Many of the men in the audience were whooping her name. She looked out with her red vampire eyes, and seemed to glare, but just smile sweetly and flipped her short, bouncy hair. Every male's tongue was rolling out of his mouth and dripping with drool...not to mention other body parts...*cough*... and many women were chattering amongst themselves or attempting to calm their husbands.  
  
"You don't really think those are real, do you?"  
  
"It's obvious that she uses pads. Either that or had implants."  
  
"Are all female vampires that well endowed? Oh, come and take me, Dracula, baby!"  
  
* From "Monty Python and the Holy Grail  
  
Still to come...Anderson attends (or participates in) the contest!  
  
And Incognito makes a cameo!  
  
Incognito (wearing a purple thong): I will win this contest with my amazing mojo! And then I will violate you all! Mwahahaha!  
  
All: *blank stares that lead to snickering*  
  
Incognito: AHH!!!! 


End file.
